By
Skye Taylor -- Mainstream, 372 pages
Cover art by Pat Evans
Matt Steele has a no-nonsense plan to fix
the economy and restore America’s legacy, Roland Miller dominates the polls,
and the first Independent candidate with a realistic chance to win the
presidency has the determination to get there at any cost. All three have
secrets that could derail everything.
Excerpt:
“We can marry? Yes?” Mai Ly’s gaze scanned
the room beyond Matt, looking for Sam. Finding it empty, she looked back at
Matt with a question in her eyes.
She looked so delicate, but beneath the
beautiful, fragile exterior was a tough, determined survivor. Sam’s fiancĂ©e had
lived through more of hell than anyone Matt had ever known, yet she remained
confident, sunny and resilient. It was one of the things that made her so
attractive to men, especially to Sam. And to Matt himself, if he was honest
about it. He prayed she would be strong enough to bear the latest blow life had
delivered.
Sam was dead. He shouldn’t have been in
harm’s way at all. He’d only been sent to guard the perimeter at the DAO
headquarters from unruly mobs, not from enemy shells. And Matt had to tell Mai
Ly that Sam wasn’t coming back.
Mai Ly reached for the paper in Matt’s
hand. The precious bit of paper she and Sam had been waiting for authorizing
their marriage.
“He’s gone, Mai Ly.”
Mai Ly scanned the page, and then looked at
Matt in confusion. “Gone home? To the USA? Without me?”
“He was killed.”
Mai Ly’s eyes widened. “No! Sam is at the
embassy. Nothing bad can happen there.” Her gaze searched the room again with
desperate disbelief.
Matt watched the hope in her eyes give way
to agonized despair. “Sam was guarding the airfield. He was in the wrong place
at the wrong time.”
Matt wanted to smash his fist through the
paper-thin walls of the apartment he and Sam had shared. Walls that had
sheltered the growing love affair between his friend and Mai Ly. He was furious
with the ambassador and all the foot dragging that had cost Sam his life.
Furious that any of them were in Vietnam at all.
“Wrong place,” Matt muttered aloud. Then his
voice faded to a broken whisper. “Wrong time.”
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